


as one we are everything

by alotofthingsdifferent



Series: think of all the doors we'll open [4]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Moving In Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-17 11:24:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3527516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alotofthingsdifferent/pseuds/alotofthingsdifferent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jonny’s never been a fan of over-the-top declarations of love. He doesn’t get teary-eyed over romantic marriage proposals or wedding vows, he doesn’t need someone to stand on a food cart in the middle of the courtyard and profess their feelings for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	as one we are everything

**Author's Note:**

> set in the 'think of all the doors we'll open' series--fills in the gap between the two years at the end of 'a world with you'.
> 
> this was a tumblr prompt fill for cherryvanilla, who wanted the proposal in this verse.
> 
> find me on [tumblr!](http://alotofthingsdifferent.tumblr.com)

Jonny’s putting Brent’s laundry away, tucking his socks into the top dresser drawer, when he finds the black velvet box. He stares at it for a long second, resisting the (very strong) urge to open it, telling himself it’s probably not what he thinks it is. It could be anything, he thinks. Brent’s cufflinks, for example.

He tries not to think about the fact that the box wasn’t there last week when he was putting laundry away, or that their anniversary is in three days, or that when Brent had asked him to move in a month ago, he’d talked about it being “a step in the right direction” and referenced their “future together.”

“You’re here most of the time anyway,” he’d murmured against Jonny’s bare shoulder, and it wasn’t fair, Jonny thought at the time, that he was bringing it up then, when Jonny was fucked out and boneless in Brent’s bed. “C'mon, babe,” he’d said, peppering Jonny’s skin with kisses. “Move in with me.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t see himself having a future with Brent. He did, he couldn’t imagine a life without Brent in it, but he’d never lived with a boyfriend before, never shared a space with anyone but his family. He’d always been intensely independent, and while he didn’t worry that he’d find out any deep, dark secrets about Brent’s living habits, it was still scary to think about putting his toothbrush in the holder next to Brent’s permanently.

“What if we fight?” Jonny asked. Brent laughed, rolling his eyes. 

“I think it’s a given that we’ll fight at some point, Jonny. No one’s perfect.”

“What if you get sick of me?”

“Not possible.”

“What if--”

“Jonny. If you don’t want to move in, just say so, ok? But I’m extending the offer.”

In the end, Jonny relented. None of his excuses really made much sense anyway. 

It’s been great. Brent was right, and Jonny’s never been happier.

But now there’s a ring box -- well, a jewelry box of _some_ kind in Brent’s sock drawer and Jonny is maybe panicking a bit. He sits down on the edge of their bed and pieces together what he knows.

He knows Brent is a hopeless romantic. (On their first official date, he’d taken Jonny on a horse-drawn carriage ride through the park. It wasn’t Jonny’s cup of tea, but the way Brent was looking at him all night made him forget about how much he hated horses.) He knows they have dinner reservations on Friday night at a five-star restaurant in the city. He knows Brent enjoys grand gestures, and he knows there’s a RING BOX in Brent’s sock drawer.

Jonny’s never been a fan of over-the-top declarations of love. He doesn’t get teary-eyed over romantic marriage proposals or wedding vows, he doesn’t need someone to stand on a food cart in the middle of the courtyard and profess their feelings for him. 

He’s on his feet in front of Brent’s dresser before he can stop himself, hands fumbling around the back of the top drawer until his fingers curl around the box. He knows he shouldn’t look, he knows he should put the box back where he found it and pretend he never even saw it. 

And when he’s staring down at the open box, a simple platinum band staring back at him, he knows he can’t take this moment back. He tries not to let the guilt he feels eat away at him.

\--

“You ready?” Brent asks, his head poking into the bathroom. He catches Jonny’s eye in the mirror and smiles. “Limo’s waiting.”

Jonny turns over his shoulder and frowns as he finishes the knot on his tie. “Limo? You didn’t say anything about a limo.” His palms are clammy and he’s trying to keep his racing heart beat under control. 

For the past three days, all he’s been able to think about is the ring. Will tonight be the night? he thinks. Did Brent go to great lengths to plan some elaborate proposal that Jonny really doesn’t want? His stomach is in knots and Brent steps in towards him, caging him in against the bathroom sink.

“I know,” he says, nosing along Jonny’s jaw. “Surprise?”

Jonny laughs nervously and gives Brent a quick kiss before ducking out of his arms and slipping his coat on. “I could have driven.”

Brent shrugs, helping Jonny the rest of the way into his coat. “Tonight’s special,” he says, planting a kiss to the back of Jonny’s neck. 

“Yeah,” Jonny agrees, wanting to add “Are you proposing to me tonight?” but thinking better of it.

When they’re settled in the limo, Brent pours two glasses of champagne and hands one to Jonny, one big hand resting on Jonny’s knee. “Happy anniversary, baby,” he says, clinking their glasses together gently.

He takes a sip and hands his glass to Jonny before arching his hips off the seat to reach into his pocket. Jonny freezes, his eyes wide, breathing out a relieved sigh when he realizes Brent’s just pulling out his wallet. “You ok?” Brent says, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“What? Yeah, I’m fine,” Jonny says. “Happy anniversary.” He sets the glasses down and leans in to kiss Brent then, one hand on either side of his face, cupping his jaw gently. It gets heated quickly, and by the time they arrive at the restaurant, Jonny’s almost forgotten about the looming possibility of an over-the-top marriage proposal. 

Almost, because when they’re shown to their table, he realizes it’s scattered with red rose petals, a bottle of wine already chilling in a silver bucket of ice. He’s tense when Brent pulls his chair out for him, brushing a kiss to his temple before taking his own seat and reaching for Jonny’s hand across the table.

In Brent’s defense, Jonny’s never told him that flowers and candy don’t really do it for him. He’s always just gone along with it, never wanting to hurt Brent’s feelings or make him think he was unappreciative of his efforts. 

“Hey,” Brent says, and Jonny blinks himself out of the distracted daze he’d been in. “Is everything ok? You seem far away.”

“Yeah,” Jonny says, squeezing Brent’s hand. “It’s fine.” He scoots his chair closer to Brent’s even though he knows Brent wasn’t being literal with his comment. “C’mon, lets order.”

Dinner comes and goes without any fanfare, and Jonny finds himself wondering if maybe he read the whole thing wrong. They fall into easy conversation, touching playfully under the table and stealing kisses in the candlelight.

When their dessert arrives -- chocolate mousse, Jonny’s favorite -- Jonny tenses again. He swears Brent is watching him carefully, eyeing every bite he takes, and he’s half expecting to choke on the ring every time he puts the spoon in his mouth. 

“What’s up with you?” Brent finally asks when their plates are cleared away. “You’ve been on edge all night.”

“I have not,” Jonny snaps, and shit, he hadn’t meant it to come out like that. He sighs heavily, letting one hand come to rest on Brent’s thigh. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I just -- have a headache, is all, and you went to so much trouble to plan all this for us that I didn’t want to ask you to cancel. I’m sorry I’ve been out of it .”

Brent strokes his fingers over the back of Jonny’s neck, squeezing once. He leans in close, his breath on Jonny’s ear, and says quietly, “Let’s get you home then, huh? I can give you an anniversary massage.”

Jonny leans into his touch and smiles. “Yeah.That sounds perfect,” he says. 

He realizes, as they’re leaving the restaurant and his ring finger is still bare, that the emotion he’d been expecting to feel -- relief -- isn’t what he’s feeling at all. 

\--

“Jonny,” Brent whispers. “Baby, wake up.”

Jonny grunts and turns his head, ignoring the soft laugh coming from Brent’s side of the bed. There’s a rush of cool air as Brent pulls back the covers and stands up. Jonny can hear him walking, then feels the bed dip slightly next to him, Brent’s fingertips brushing his arm. 

“Jonny,” Brent repeats, and Jonny opens his eyes slowly, blinking a few times to adjust to the dim light in the room. Brent’s right there, crouched next to the bed, his chin resting on his arms. “Hi,” he says, and his smile can still make Jonny’s heart skip a beat. 

“What time is it?” Jonny asks, watching Brent sleepily.

“Hey Jonny,” Brent says, his voice fond. It takes Jonny a moment to realize that Brent is holding something up between his fingers. His heart leaps to his throat when he realizes it’s the platinum band he hasn’t been able to get out of his head. “Marry me?”

As the words hit Jonny’s ears, his throat tightens, his eyes suddenly burning, and _oh_ , he thinks. _Oh._

“Oh,” he says aloud, pushing himself up on his elbows. Brent chuckles, reaching up to card his fingers through Jonny’s messy hair. Jonny swallows through a rush of guilt, ducking his head in shame. He doesn’t notice Brent’s smirk until it’s too late.

“What’s the matter?” Brent asks, and Jonny can hear the teasing undertone. He finally lets himself look at Brent, who smiles knowingly. “Aren’t you surprised?”

Jonny groans and drops back onto the bed, his face buried in his pillow, his neck blotchy-red.

“How did you know?” he asks, voice muffled.

Brent trails his fingers along Jonny’s spine. It’s oddly comforting. “Wasn’t where I left it,” he says. “How long have you known?”

“Since Tuesday,” Jonny admits miserably, and then quieter, “I’m sorry.” He turns his head so he’s facing Brent again. “I shouldn’t have --”

“Shh, it’s fine,” Brent says, his hand resting on Jonny’s lower back. “It’s good, actually.”

Jonny frowns, confused. “How is it good? I ruined everything.”

Brent shakes his head. “You didn’t ruin anything,” he says gently. “I know you hate grand gestures, baby. It was never going to be like that.”

“You do?” Jonny asks, confused. “It wasn’t?”

Brent’s laughing now, climbing to bed and rolling Jonny onto his back so he can straddle his hips. He lets one hand come to rest on Jonny’s chest, over his heart. “Once I knew you found the ring, I figured I’d wait it out. Your game face is terrible,” he says, “and I figured if you didn’t want to marry me, you’d find a way to tell me without -- well, without really telling me.”

“But I was a space cadet tonight,” Jonny says. “I could barely focus, I was so convinced you were going to propose to me in front of the whole fucking restaurant.” 

Brent smiles softly. “And then dessert came, and there was no ring in the mousse, and your face told me everything I needed to know.”

Jonny swallows against the lump forming in his throat. He’s not going to cry. He’s _not_.

“It did?”

Brent nods, the hand on Jonny’s chest sliding down his arm to his hand, lacing their fingers together. He brings Jonny’s knuckles to his lips, kissing each one.

“I love you,” Brent says simply. It’s nothing flowery, nothing poetic, nothing grand or over-the-top. It’s just the truth. “Marry me.”

When Brent slides the band onto Jonny’s finger, it feels like it’s been there all along.


End file.
